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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25012606">because I love you too much baby</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frival/pseuds/Frival'>Frival</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hetalia: Axis Powers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bonding via music, Fluff, Hetalia Countries Using Human Names, M/M, Mentioned France (Hetalia), Mentioned Germany (Hetalia), Mentioned North Italy (Hetalia), Mentioned Spain (Hetalia), Pining, RusAme</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:54:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,007</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25012606</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frival/pseuds/Frival</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>russia and america bond during a meeting</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>America/Russia (Hetalia)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>86</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>because I love you too much baby</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Russia swore that if he had to sit here another second and listen to England’s monotonous voice he’d snap. What was this meeting even about? He had forgotten; it probably wasn’t important anyway. God, his head hurt. </p><p>Nothing at the moment seemed more appealing than returning back to his hotel room and sleeping for ten hours. Unfortunately for Russia, this discussion over nothing had another hour to go. </p><p>He looked around the familiar room, gaze glancing over all of his fellow nations. They all looked as tired as he felt. Italy had taken to resting his head on Germany’s shoulder, much to the blonde’s dismay if the annoyed expression he wore was anything to go by. France was turned to a chuckling Spain, seemingly mocking the Brit with his hands. Russia found it only somewhat amusing. </p><p>Other nations seemed to have taken to doodling on their papers, or- if you were Japan- furiously taking notes on whatever England was talking about. Russia huffed and sunk down into his seat, staring at the tan-colored walls. The paint was peeling; somebody should take care of that. </p><p>He let England’s voice drown to white noise in his ears and closed his eyes. It was about a minute of uneasy peace before he heard something else to be annoyed by.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Tap. Tap. Tap tap. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Russia sat up slowly, looking for the source of the tapping. He looked to his right and saw the one and only America, who was dancing his fingernail on the table. Russia frowned.</p><p> </p><p>“Alfred, can you stop that, please?” he whispered. America looked at him and smiled. Something in Russia’s stomach flipped. </p><p> </p><p>“Sorry,” the blonde whispered back and pointing to his ear; there was an earbud in it. “‘s hard to keep still,” he shrugged. </p><p> </p><p>Russia stared at the device in America’s ear. He heard the faint bass of the song America was listening too. </p><p> </p><p>“Shouldn’t you be listening to your brother?” Russia asked, voice still hushed. </p><p> </p><p>America scoffed, “Nah, why would I want to do that?” </p><p> </p><p>Russia smiled at that. Of course, America, the nation who loves to hear himself speak the most, wouldn’t want to listen to England. He nodded to show to understood and turned away to watch England be blissfully aware of the boredom he’s been causing for the past thirty minutes. After a minute, he felt someone grab his shoulder and lean in close.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey Ivan,” the American said, “want the other side?” then leaned back. Russia turned around slightly flushed. Hr stared hesitantly at the hand offering the earbud. The American grinned. </p><p> </p><p>“You looked bored, might as well, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Russia continued staring for a few seconds before nodding and grabbing the earbud. He put it in his ear and tried to recognize the song playing from the small speaker. </p><p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <strong>
      <em>...we can’t go on together with suspicious minds…</em>
    </strong>
  </p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p>Russia scrunched up his face in minor disgust. “Elvis?”</p><p> </p><p>“Hell yeah dude, he’s amazing!” America beamed. </p><p> </p><p>Russia shook his head and laughed. “I remember, in the fifties, you took inspiration from his...style,” </p><p> </p><p>“Dude, don’t even go there. You know that haircut was awesome,” the other Nation smacked his arm. </p><p> </p><p>“That is debatable.”</p><p> </p><p>America shook his head “You listened to Elvis too, whenever you visited.”</p><p> </p><p>Russia gave a small smile, reminiscing. “I did.”</p><p> </p><p>The song switched suddenly. </p><p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <strong>
      <em>You ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog…</em>
    </strong>
  </p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p>Russia quickly shook his head and held his hand out. “No, my turn. I want to pick.”</p><p> </p><p>“My phone, my music,” America held his phone against his chest possessively. The Russian continued to wait with his hand out. </p><p> </p><p>America groaned in defeat. “Fine, here.” He forcefully pushed the phone into the older nation’s hand. Russia grinned at him.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you,” he said. He began to scroll through the playlist that America had chosen. “You have a horrid taste in music.”</p><p> </p><p>“I do not! Everything in there is a <em> classic </em>!” </p><p> </p><p>“I wouldn’t say that,” Russia smirked. “Who even is Cyndi Lauper?”</p><p> </p><p>“Only an icon from the eighties!” the American frowned and crossed his arms. </p><p> </p><p>“You Americans and your eighties music,” Russia remarked. </p><p> </p><p>“So sorry I don’t listen to the Red Army Choir in my free time,” America uttered. The Russian glowered at him, continuing to scroll through the hundreds of songs. He paused on one before choosing it.</p><p> </p><p>America laughed loudly, making England stop mid-sentence. Russia blushed with embarrassment at the sudden attention they were getting from the others. </p><p> </p><p>“What the bloody hell are you laughing about, Alfred?” the British nation scolded. </p><p> </p><p>America laughed again “Absolutely nothing, dear Arthur, please continue!” </p><p> </p><p>England huffed angrily and rolled his eyes, “Whatever.” He continued on with his presentation. </p><p> </p><p>America looked over at Russia, who was hiding his face in his white scarf. </p><p> </p><p>“Whitney Houston,” he whisper-yelled, “and you make fun of me for liking Elvis!”</p><p> </p><p>Russia sunk lower into the soft fabric. “She is on <em> your </em> playlist.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s still hilarious that you chose, out of everything on there, I Will Always Love You.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s a lovely song, and clearly you agree.”</p><p> </p><p>America’s eyes twinkled,  “Never said I didn’t.”</p><p> </p><p>The meeting continued on for an hour, as promised. They took turns picking songs from America’s playlist and making fun of whatever the other chose. </p><p> </p><p>It was only when he heard the snapping of briefcases shutting that he realized the meeting was over. </p><p> </p><p>America stretched, his back cracking. “Dude, that passed by so much faster than I thought it would.”</p><p> </p><p>Russia hummed, “It did.” </p><p> </p><p>The younger nation looked at him for a moment, he seemed to ponder something. </p><p> </p><p>“Want to go for lunch?” he asked. </p><p> </p><p>“It is nearly 5 o’clock.”</p><p> </p><p>“Dinner then! I can drive, you can have the aux,” America declared. Russia pretended to think it over for a minute. </p><p> </p><p>“No more Elvis?” he smirked. </p><p> </p><p>America sighed. “No more Elvis.” </p><p> </p><p>“Okay.”</p><p> </p><p>The blonde grinned from ear to ear and grabbed Russia’s wrist, excitedly dragging him out of the building. It was almost a shame he was too focused on rambling about some artist Russia doesn’t know to notice the blush creeping across the other’s face.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>songs mentioned:<br/>Suspicious Minds by Elvis Presley<br/>Hound Dog by Elvis Presley<br/>Girls Just Want to Have Fun by Cyndi Lauper<br/>I Will Always Love You by Whitney Houston</p></blockquote></div></div>
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